The Eagle
by LSgrimm91
Summary: EPILOGUE NOW AVAILABLE.  Jack never forgot the day in Iraq when his men looked to the sky and cheered the arrival of the legendary 'Eagle'.  The day he was ready to die, and the day he promised to never give up. R&R S/J Three fries short of canon.
1. The Eagle

**Disclaimer: not mine. Still sad about it.  
****Summary: He never forgot the day in Iraq when his men looked to the sky and cheered the arrival of the legendary 'Eagle'. The day he was ready to die, and the day he promised to never give up.  
****A/note: Seriously, no idea where this came from. Feedback much appreciated, which I will shamelessly beg for. Please excuse the one bad word.**

~~ **The Eagle** ~~

_8__th __July 1991  
__Kuwait_

He'd lost four men already. It didn't help that he had started with nine. He had been sitting in the same patch of dirt for six, maybe seven days. He'd nearly lost count. His hands were bound tightly behind him, around a thick wooden pole lodged firmly in the ground. His mouth was so dry he'd stopped bothering to try and moisten it. The sun burned furiously and he quietly begged for it all to end.

He looked to his left. Danny Walters, his 2IC, sat slumped over, chin digging into his chest about six feet away. Beyond him, the collapsed figure of Evan Stone, ironically, the company medic, lay on his side in the burning soil. Around the dusty courtyard he could count seventeen other men of different ages.

They did their best, all of them, to keep quiet. To protect him as much as their secrets.

Jack looked up, his muscles weakened from a lack of nourishment. Those men weren't stupid. They knew Jack was the leader but beat him no more than the rest of his company. Don't worry; he had certainly had his fair share.

He spent the remainder of his time trying to figure a way out. The bindings weren't the problem; it was the dozens of men in the courtyard carrying different degrees of deadly weapons. Secretly, he had resigned himself to death by starvation, dehydration or hot lead two days ago; when he watched the youngest member of his company, Taylor, take one to the forehead. The night after that happened, he had cried.

He cried for the other three they had lost. He cried for Sara and his own son Charlie. Then, he cried for himself. He hated the shame that came with wanting to die before the rest of his team.

His body was already aching from the endless cramps. They had received enough water to sustain them during the day and had only been fed twice since their capture. He wasn't sure how it all happened. But after so many days to sit and do nothing but think about it, it came down to numbers. They were outmanned and outgunned. Plain and simple.

To his right, a dry cough escaped his friend's lips. He turned to look at the man beside him. He tried to speak, but the words did not come easily. Jack tried again.

"How ya doin' Alan?" he asked. The younger man coughed more deeply.

"Still kickin' Colonel. Don't you worry about me..." his head dropped back against the wood with a 'thunk'.

"Good." Jack tried to smile, but found himself suddenly too tired. "I was going to tell you to shut up, you're snoring so damn loud." He tried to joke.

The young Captain smiled, but soon faded.

"Between you an' me Jack, I was going to quit the business anyway."

"That so? Heck Al, I might just join ya..."

Alan lolled his head to the side, a tired yet curious expression washing over his features.

"You ready to give up Jack?" he frowned.

Jack gave the man a sad and fleeting smile, shrugging his shoulder despite its protest. The man shared his sombre mood.

"Ya know Jack, there are two types of people in the world. The ones that believe in miracles and the ones that don't."

"Which one are you?"

"I do." The man quickly silenced himself when one of their armed captors walked past. Once out of earshot, he continued. "Really question is Jack: do _you_?"

Jack considered the question carefully.

"If we get out here, I will." He sank back into the discomfort of the wood digging into his shoulders. "No one knows we are here. And here is so far away from anywhere important that they ain't going to stumble on us by accident."

"I knew we should'na left you in charge of morale." He man retorted.

Jack chuckled a little, but the agitation caused his chest to heave, coughing uncontrollably. God, how far gone was he? He should have stayed in the air. Why did he decide flying was more dangerous than this?

He nearly fell asleep when someone tripped over his foot. It jolted him back to reality to see men running frantically through the courtyards into the surrounding buildings. He looked up to find an orange glow painted on the sky. Must be close to sunset.

He realised the courtyard was cleared. No one in sight except for the POW's. Some of the men were two steps ahead of him, desperately trying to escape their bindings.

Then he heard the rumble. Not the rumble of thunder, nor the earth shifting. Not the rumble of his stomach or of feet on dirty pavement. Even better. That was definitely rumbling from the afterburner on an F-16. He knew that sound anywhere. His fellow soldiers seemed equally delighted by it sounds echoing of the walls of the compound.

Those walls groaned and shook as explosions blasted all around them, ringing in his eyes and blowing great waves of sand and dust throughout the compound. Another explosion sounded on the other side of the wall behind him, followed by screams and gunfire. Debris and brick rained down on him.

He looked up with a renewed vitality, his eyes grinding with dirt. He saw the aircraft fly low over them, taking a swing around and coming down even lower. His body vibrated with the intense sound. Across the compound, men cried out in rejoice.

"Goddamn! It's Eagle! Holy shit!" One man praised; casting his eyes up at the sky.

The jet circled on its side over them one last time, and Jack swore he caught the shape of a bald-headed eagle on the tailplane of the aircraft. The walls around them crumbled in places and the last thing he saw when the brick hit his temple, was American soldiers storming the compound.

He was a fool to have given up.

~~ SG1 ~~

_2005  
__Cheyenne Mountain_

Jack toyed with one of the silver model jets on his desk. He had released SG1 for the weekend and Teal'c had just left his office, having received permission to go offworld to visit Rya'c. As if Jack could say no. He finally grew tired of the steely model and replaced it on his desk. He stood and made his way to the door before something on the chair opposite his desk caught his eye. A navy blue book lay on the seat.

Teal'c had brought it in with him and must have left it behind. He doubled back and picked it up, turning it over to glance at the cover.

'_The Gulf" _it was simply titled.

Curiosity got the better of him. He sat down in the now vacant chair and flipped it open, flicking quickly through the pages. It had a lot of pictures, some of them bringing back uncomfortable memories. Before he went to close it, he spotted a picture in passing that he felt needed to be looked at.

He went back several pages and let it fall open. A black and white picture of Carter in her flight suit stared at him. God, she looked so young. So starry-eyed and untainted. Back when it was about the joy of flying. There was a lengthy caption beneath the photo.

'_Captain Samantha 'Eagle' Carter flew 116 hours during her time in the gulf. Already famous for her incredible skills as an aviator, Capt. Carter rose in status to become a flying legend during her final flight in July 1991, in which she flew her already damaged F-16 Falcon into enemy airspace, providing sufficient ordinance to a POW compound, enabling the rescue of eighteen Americans prisoners; ultimately_ _earning her the Aerial Achievement Medal.'_

Jack couldn't help but chuckle at the realisation.

"Carter, you reckless, miracle worker..." He ran his fingers pensively down the smiling picture before closing the book, placing it in the top draw of his desk and walking out the door, remembering to switch the light off as he went.

~~ SG1 ~~

**And done. So random. Friendly comments are so very, very welcome.**


	2. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: not mine. Never will be. Makes me very sad.  
****Accompanying piece to 'The Eagle'. Jack and Sam discuss the gulf war and their involvement. Hopefully amend some of the inaccuracies of the story. A/note stuff at the bottom. **_**Italics**_** for dreams/ flashback. Set at the cabin post Moebius. Reasonably fluff free, very mild shippiness *****Warning: Creative licence hard at work****! (Three fries short of true canon, but not totally AU)**

**~~ Epilogue ~~**

"_Ya' right there Carter?" he asked her over the radio. She shook off the pressure that built between her ears. They rose higher and higher, leaving the remainder of their squadron behind, buzzing like flies, right above the drop zone._

"_All good Sir." She assured him from her seat behind. She tightened her grip and clenched her jaw even tighter. "Still with me, Sir?"_

"_Where would I go?" he laughed. She didn't miss the pained cough that followed. This was not how it was supposed to be. It was a simple run, all in a day's work. _

_The sky ahead was calm as they crested and the world slowed, pulling her insides up her through her throat. The jet rolled back and the horizon came into view, rising up and their target lay before them._

"_It's party time..." he joked._

_She punched it and her head slammed back into the headrest. They accelerated quickly and her G-suit came into play. Pressure from the suit squeezed at every part of her body, forcing blood back to her brain. Her chest compressed and she felt the ache as she tried to draw oxygen back in. _

_The battle below was upon them before she realised. Her breathing grew short but she was determined to maintain her focus. A Falcon flew right in front of the nose, so close...  
_

She gasped as she sat up in her bed, lungs still aching as if she were back in that seat. She panted and grasped feebly at her neck and chest, breathing heavily and could not hold back the shudder. A thin sheen of sweat glistened in the moonlight that came though the open window.

She was fully awake as she quickly took in her surroundings. She would not be able to sleep for the rest of the night; she glanced at her watch, morning. She never could after these dreams. These nightmares.

She pulled on her cardigan and stepped out onto the back deck. She did not expect to find him there. It was his house, sure, but she did not expect to find him sitting outside at four in the morning, something swirling around the glass in his hand.

He saw her then.

"Penny for your thoughts, Carter?" he returned his sleepy gaze to his glass. She joined him at the outdoor table. A playing card danced between his fingers, tapping indiscernibly on the hard wood.

"So many years going offworld and it's the Gulf that wakes me in the middle of the night..." she mused.

"You were young. The world became a lot more gruesome. You're not the only one." He drank deeply from his glass. Absently he offered her the remainder. She took it. Scotch. Good scotch too.

From the corner of her eye, he held up the playing card, still dancing between his caressing fingers.

"We got caught out on an Op this one time. You learn what you had to hold onto. What tied you to your home." He grumbled pensively.

"What kept you going?"

"Charlie." He analysed the card in his hands. "He was four when I left. I tried to teach him to play cards, but he liked to make up his own rules. We played Snap, but he confused it with another game we played. 'Go fish Dad! Go fish!' he would say, instead of snap."

He smiled sadly and slowly flattened the card on the table.

"I was at the end of my rope that time. I lost a few and for just a moment, I didn't want to see the next day. I was content to go, right there under the sun. But then, rescue came. Some of the men there, they didn't hold onto something they left behind. They held onto something they prayed for."

"Like what?"

"Well, this one guy looks to the sky and yells out 'The Eagle! It's Eagle." He pointed to the moon. "I see this sixteen fly over us..." he hands swooped lightly down, before collapsing into his lap. "I had no clue. They were glad to see it though. Like it was the second coming..."

He looked at her. She gave nothing away.

"Hmm." She shrugged.

"I woke up in base med the next day. I asked the nurse about this 'eagle' but she didn't know. The guy in the next bed over did though..."

"_Sergeant Jake Zois." The young man held out a bandaged hand._

"_Lieutenant Colonel Jack O'Neill." He shook it._

"_I've seen the Eagle in action Sir. Best flyin' I ever saw. Flyboys are meant to make a drop on a munitions store in this shanty kind of town, in the middle of freakin' nowhere. Pretty soon, about dozen bogies are on top of them. Eagle engages, takes out two, breaks off and flies up real high." His hands rose in the air, a silhouette in the light above his bed. _

"_Came back down, through the middle of sortie, punches straight through, makes the drop and pulls up right at the last second. Bit that was so damn impressive; took out the target, leaves everything else perfectly untouched. Zero unaccounted casualties."_

_That was certainly worthy of a head nod._

"_But that's just what I saw. There are loads of other stories around. When you got Eagle covering your back, you know you're going home."_

"_This guy got a name?"_

_That stumped him._

"_I never got his name. Can't think of anyone who'd know. He's kinda like the red baron. You see the plane, you know what's coming."  
_

"Apparently this 'Eagle' was very good at hitting his target, and only his target." He pulled a scotch bottle up from beneath his chair, along with another glass. He silently offered her one. She accepted. After another long moment, she finally addressed him.

"I flew backseat in my CO's sixteen-B. We got stuck in a dogfight, took a few shots, I'm stuck making the drop to get us back in time to get him to med. We made it out, next thing I know, I'm fronted up to Lieutenant General Horner. I thought I was going to lose my head." She took a sip. He waited patiently for her to continue.

"Couple of days later, I'm trotted into a hanger and there's this E model Falcon sitting in there. It's got a massive bald-headed eagle on the back and no name on it. Some of those missions were as classified as the Stargate program. Part of that was because I was a woman. At least that's what I still believe. All up I had ninety six hours in the Nighthawk, probably twenty eight, maybe twenty nine in the Falcon. I will admit Falcon was more spectacular, kind of sucks that the logs were never released. Decided I deserved a medal for my last run."

Silence hung between them.

"Is that why you had that chip on your shoulder?" he asked abruptly.

"I did _not_ have a chip on my shoulder..." she rebutted.

"It was the size of Texas, Carter. Surprised you didn't fall over..." he took a sip of his scotch. "Thanks Sam."

"For what?"

"Saving my ass..." She gave him an amused eyebrow. "And all the other times too."

The corner of her mouth rose into a smile. She looked to her glass and held it out. He raised his glass to hers.

"The Eagle." He offered.

"To the Jack of hearts." She grinned

Sure enough, the card on the table under their glasses was the Jack of hearts. They downed the scotch, slamming their glasses on the table.

"Alright. Let's do it." Jack stood and leant down over the table across from her.

"Sir?" she frowned. He dug his right elbow in a groove on the table. "Are you serious? You wanna arm wrestle?"

"I'm feeling a bit drunk, I'm old... and I've always wondered who would win. Step up."

She obliged him, leaning across the table and grasping his hand, her grip surprisingly tight.

"Ready?" he asked. She gave him a confident grin.

"Don't worry Sir, I won't let you down."

~~ SG1 ~~

**Reviews welcomed and fully appreciated.  
****A/note: not strictly canon, but reasonably close. As an Air Force Cadet I do understand the limitations for women in the military. Thank you to everyone for the friendly reviews. Especially C. The epilogue is not necessary to the story, but it's just a bit extra. Though looking at this, it's not really an epilogue; it's very much another chapter. But it is complimentary to the main story, hence being called an epilogue.**


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